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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25003087">undoing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavensabove/pseuds/heavensabove'>heavensabove</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>anika trevelyan: alternate circumstances [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU of my own universe i guess lmao, Angst, F/M, Heartbreak, Unplanned Pregnancy, and un-heartbreak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:40:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,017</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25003087</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavensabove/pseuds/heavensabove</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>(She had been reckless. Stupid. Wanton. So overcome with helpless love, so preoccupied with having him and letting him have her in turn, that she hadn’t thought even for a second to protect herself.)</p><p>Nearly three months after pardoning Thom Rainier and dissolving her relationship with him, Anika realizes she's pregnant.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blackwall/Female Inquisitor, Blackwall/Female Trevelyan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>anika trevelyan: alternate circumstances [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1810114</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>undoing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The timeline of this is the same as my original series, except it deviates after 'a final stolen thing': instead of continuing her relationship with Blackwall/Rainier, Anika ends it and also ends up pregnant as a result of the evening of spooking horses in the loft. The basic idea of this was floating around in my head because of a line in that fic, where Blackwall worries about the consequences of, well, finishing inside Anika; in the original series, they luck out, but not so much here. The result is drama, which we all need more of.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first month Anika attributes to stress. After what she had gone through with…him, on top of everything she already deals with, it’s no wonder her body is skipping its normal processes, reeling just as her mind is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two weeks into the second month, she begins to worry. But how can it be? She tries to reason with herself. It was only one time, her very first time. She’s known of couples who tried for months before anything like this happened for them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Days away from the third month, she panics. She makes a stop at the infirmary but hovers around, letting the healers assume she’s there to check on the injured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>During her walk back to the castle, she stares in the direction of the stables. She hasn’t gone there since that day. What would she go for? She had severed those ties herself. All there is between them now, in the yards separating her from where he’s probably chiseling away at wood, is heartache.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In her quarters, she sits on the edge of her bed. Clutching the mattress, she rocks herself. If what she suspects has happened - and right now it seems undeniable that it has - then she has to take measures to…do something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tears gather in her eyes. She had been reckless. Stupid. Wanton. So overcome with helpless love, so preoccupied with having him and letting him have her in turn, that she hadn’t thought even for a second to protect herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose it was because you were inexperienced.” Vivienne says the next day, as Anika sits on the chaise in her quarters. “I don’t like to pry into the inner lives of others, so I said nothing but, my dear, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> concerned for you. And now…it’s just unfortunate. To have become pregnant by </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika flinches, but doesn’t respond. Vivienne is not one to hold back, and she’s never made her dislike of Bl–him a secret. But Vivienne will help. Underneath the double-edged words and the clear disapproval, her concern is genuine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…I’m not sure what to do.” Anika says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are some options.” Vivienne says carefully. “I must warn you, however, that none of them are risk-free. Termination is a complicated process. As in childbirth, deaths are not uncommon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika breathes out slowly. “And if…if I were to go through with it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vivienne lifts her chin, regarding her with unreadable eyes. “Would that not interfere with your duties? How would you go about defeating Corypheus in such a condition?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika ducks her head, unable to think of a response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In the end, the decision is yours and yours only. But you must make it quickly. The later you terminate, the more complications you will face.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Anika cries herself to sleep and then, has a cruel dream. It’s nothing but images of that night, so vivid that it feels like she’s back in that moment, reliving everything. She hears his heavy breathing, his strained groans, feels his rough hands on her skin, his chest hair rubbing against her sensitive breasts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment of his climax rings throughout her body. She can feel his warmth flooding in. She hears her own moans as she tells him she loves it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She awakens, drenched in sweat, slick between her legs. Her breasts ache and her stomach twists into knots. She drains the carafe of water by her bed and slumps against the sheets, tossing and turning the rest of the night.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“You don’t look good.” Cullen says, a slight tension creasing the space between his brows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. You look…sallow. Did you not sleep last night?” Leliana says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should go to the infirmary.” Josephine says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika hears them all and doesn’t really process any of their words. Today, she’s called Cassandra into the war room, who looks extremely concerned. She had asked Morrigan not to attend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have something to say.” Anika says. Her own voice sounds very far away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Cassandra asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was stupid.” Anika says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this about…Rainier?” Cullen asks. He suddenly looks very grim.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leliana’s eyes soften. Josephine’s face is a mournful fount of sympathy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you still blaming yourself?” Cassandra says. “It is only that man’s fault. He lied to you, to all of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you regretting letting him stay?” Leliana asks. “If so, we can make arrangements for him to be stationed elsewhere, perhaps at one of the keeps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika feels dizzy. Cassandra grabs her shoulder to steady her when she sways. Anika blinks. The room spins a few times before re-settling. When she turns her face, Cullen, Leliana and Josephine are crowded around her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to go to the infirmary.” Josephine says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I went. I couldn’t.” Anika says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She seems disoriented.” Cullen says. He goes and drags a chair back. Cassandra makes her sit in it, and she drops her head so her face is hidden from them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was stupid.” She says again. “I made a wreckless decision. Before anything else, I want to apologize.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> your fault!” Cassandra says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s my mistake.” Anika says softly, reaching out to grab Cassandra’s hand. “I’ve sabotaged our efforts. I’ve made everything so much harder.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean? How so?” Leliana asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cassandra.” Anika’s head snaps up, and the group around her jolts at the sight of her tears. “I want you to take it from me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to be Inquisitor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you saying?” Josephine exclaims, astonished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened to you? Why are you saying this suddenly?” Cullen says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leliana remains quiet, mouth set in a thin line, intensely studying Anika’s face. Cassandra is bug-eyed, trembling slightly. Anika feels wretched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I–” Anika starts, but the words smash into a sob in her throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is not making any sense.” Cassandra says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Seriously</span>
  </em>
  <span>, we need to take her to the infir–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m pregnant.” Anika blurts out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one speaks for a long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-how…” Josephine says, barely above a whisper. “How can you be sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That bastard.” Cassandra breathes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I went to Vivienne. She confirmed it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sweet Maker.” Cullen turns so his back is to them all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bastard.” Cassandra growls, ready to bolt out towards the stables.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, please.” Anika whimpers, grabbing Cassandra’s arm with both hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cassandra, you mustn’t be rash.” Leliana says. Her voice shakes slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> did this!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not alone.” Anika says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you compare yourself to that lecherous wastrel?” Cassandra grinds out. “There is not a brothel in Orlais that does not know Thom Rainier’s face.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika stiffens, her hands slipping from Cassandra’s arm to grip the armrest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cassandra.” Leliana says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassandra’s shoulders slump and she rubs her face. “There is no point to not confronting his reality.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do we do?” Cullen says, facing them again. “I mean, what are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika looks down, silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need to rush.” Leliana says. “Take your time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vivienne said…that terminating sooner is better.” Anika says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen blanches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you wish to terminate?” Josephine says. “I will try my best to ensure absolute privacy for you. I shall have everything required set up in your quarters. This will not go out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika doesn’t reply for a long time. “I’m not sure I want to terminate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her advisors and Cassandra all look at each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really should go rest.” Leliana says gently. “The month is just beginning. We have time.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Anika has known for the longest time that she wants to be a mother. She’s always been in awe of her own, of her grandmothers, of all the other mothers she’s known. How they bring new life into the world, nurture and shape it into a human being with both boundless love and stern authority.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she adores children, is good with them, having regularly rendered attendants obsolete whenever her older cousins’ offspring visited. To have her own would be a joy unparalleled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had imagined a future where her marriage to a man of her parents’ choosing would be justified by the children he would give her. Her brightest hope had been to remain single, however, and to adopt; she would share her home and inheritance with children who needed them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead she’s here, a place her wildest dreams wouldn’t have led: standing in front of her mirror with her tunic bunched up to just below her breasts, rubbing her hand on her bare stomach, growing a lying murderer’s child in her womb and considering whether she should spare it the anguish of existence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Anika had just ignored Leliana’s suspicion regarding Grey Wardens, she wouldn’t be here right now. It means he would’ve gone on living his lie, away from her. She would never have experienced the rapture of his touch or the pain of his love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t have known then. When their eyes met, she didn’t feel her life change. It was the cool, measured encounter of strangers. Love was not there on the horizon, coupling on a stack of hay in a barn’s loft unthinkable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They say it’s the Maker’s will; you don’t decide such things. After all she’s been through and done, the Maker would be so cruel?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika tugs her tunic down and sits on her bed. It’s been two days since she spoke to her advisors and Cassandra. Vivienne had been by earlier for an examination, and servants kept bringing snacks and pungent herbal teas on her advice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to face anyone else. She’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrified</span>
  </em>
  <span> of Cole, especially. She hopes he hasn’t already picked up on her secret, or at least isn’t going around talking about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika suddenly feels tired. Her body has changed considerably, become unpredictable, zigzagging through states. She lies down and pulls the covers over herself, but sleep doesn’t come. She merely stews in her exhaustion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she hears her door open. Anika pinches her eyes shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anika?” It’s Josephine. “May I come up for a moment?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With great effort, she sits up. “Yes, of course.” She calls out. She pulls the covers up to her chest and holds them there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you feeling?” Josephine asks once she’s up the stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m tired.” Anika says flatly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you would be.” Josephine says with a commiserating smile. “I heard Madame Vivienne came by to see you. What did she say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That I need to improve my diet.” Anika shrugs. “Apparently I urgently require foods that fuel blood production.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do look pale.” Josephine walks over to sit at the foot of the bed. She pauses. “Are you any closer to a decision?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika sighs. “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A quiet descends on them. Josephine shifts, mouth pulled downward. Anika picks at a thread on the sheets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly?” Anika says softly. “If it were up to me, if I didn’t have this responsibility, I would have this child. Whoever its father is doesn’t really matter. People aren’t born the way they become. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn’t born a murderer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Josephine looks at her. “We were…we were discussing that. You having this child, that is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still love him.” Anika chokes out, tears spilling out of her eyes. “I’ll never stop loving him. It’s not possible. I’ll love my child not only because it’s mine, but because it’s his, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Anika.” Josephine moves closer, puts her arms around Anika. She pets Anika’s hair. “Please don’t cry. Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You all made a mistake. I’m not right for this. I’m not strong enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are the strongest of us all.” Josephine says softly. “Who else would face such a situation and go on as you have?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think Cassandra would have allowed herself to fall into such a situation to begin with?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love is not something anyone can merely…stop. And how could you have known that the man you were in love with was not a Grey Warden but an impostor?” Josephine pulls away, frowning. “I wished to remain neutral, but Cassandra was right. It was his subterfuge that created this situation. You need not take it upon yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish I could believe that.” Anika lies down again, all but hiding her face in the pillow. “I’m sorry, but I need to rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand.” Josephine says. Anika hears her walk down the stairs and open the door. When it shuts, she breathes out, fresh tears sliding down her cheeks.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“It is unnecessary for anyone other than us to know.” Vivienne says. She’s sitting on a chair next to Anika’s bed, posture formal as always but a bit more rigid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassandra and Josephine are on the sofa, while Leliana stands at the foot of the bed. They look very composed, though Cassandra’s mouth twitches every now and again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Others </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> beginning to wonder, however.” Leliana says. “Dorian was enquiring as to why you’ve been shut up inside your room for so long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika sighs shakily, smoothing her hair out of her face. “Tell them all I’m a bit under the weather.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That has been our cover story so far, but because of it, Solas has been asking to see you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maker.” Anika closes her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we went ahead with the termination in a few days, you’d need some time to recover, but we could attribute it to a persistent fever. We would tell Solas that Madame Vivienne was handling it.” Josephine bites her lip. “But you have not come to a decision.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are all but paralyzed at the moment.” Cassandra says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s why I asked you to be Inquisitor.” Anika says glumly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what would happen after that? What would we tell the others? And where would </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> go, with the Anchor? With Corypheus snapping at your heel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d tell them the truth. And I would go into hiding.” Anika sits further up, becoming animated. “But I would never abandon the Inquisition’s cause. I would have my child and make sure they were safe, and I would return to help any way I could.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are wasting our time with talk of terminating it, then.” Cassandra says. “Anika, you clearly want this child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I..” Anika swallows, lips quivering. “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then have it.” Cassandra says. “But there is no need for you to step down as Inquisitor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you thought this through at all?” Vivienne looks at Cassandra over her shoulder. “Will she face Corypheus while heavy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika deflates. “Vivienne has a point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are our leader. You command us, you guide us, you hold us together. Your duties don’t end on the battlefield - you needn’t be there at all.” Cassandra’s tone is firm, her face a perfect mask of resolve. “I will gladly head the expeditions. And if the time for battle with Corypheus arrives before you are able, I will take your place there, as well. But you </span>
  <em>
    <span>must</span>
  </em>
  <span> remain as Inquisitor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vivienne coolly turns her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika looks down, brows furrowed, lips puffed out. Her fingers curl into the sheets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” She says and then falls silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What Cassandra’s saying makes sense.” Leliana says. “We must be careful about news of your condition reaching the enemy, but if we put up a strong front, we can manage even if they do find out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I stay here, then I’ll have to tell the others.” Anika says, knotting her fingers together on her lap. “He…he’ll know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As I’ve mentioned before, the keeps are an option.” Leliana says. “Caer Bronach in particular could use an additional soldier. It’ll be a small matter to send him there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika stares at Leliana. “I can’t just throw him out like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do not believe there is any reason to send Ser B—Rainier away. So far he has handled the end of your relationship with grace. I expect the same in this matter.” Josephine says. “As for the others…they are your friends. Why fear them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Surely he has done cold-blooded things, but is he callous enough to not care about his impending fatherhood?” Vivienne asks. “He may create more difficulties than you anticipate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you intend for him to be a part of this child’s life?” Leliana turns to Anika.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not certain he’ll want to be.” Anika says. “But…he does have a right. Since I gave him his freedom, I cannot deny him this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My, I’m not sure if the child is fortunate to have you as a mother or unfortunate to have him as a father.” Vivienne says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it decided, then?” Cassandra asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“…I’m not sure about anything.” Anika says. “You all have faith in me. I want to live up to it. I want this…I want to give this -” She flattens her palm against her stomach. " - a chance."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have done miraculous things before.” Cassandra says, smiling slightly. “You can do this, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m starting to believe you. I want to try my hardest.” Anika says. She lowers her head and stares at her intertwined fingers for a second. Then she looks up, apprehensive. “But I want to wait before we tell the others. And…I want to tell him, first. Alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vivienne smiles, a pitying and joyless expression. “That is up to you, of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the same time, Cassandra frowns deeply. “You have not spoken to him at all since the day you judged him. Are you sure you will be alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure at all. But I don’t want him to find out suddenly, in front of a dozen people. I owe him this much.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Anika spends a week thinking: ‘today’. That thought comes in the morning, shortly after she rises, a little before she empties the paltry sum of the other day’s meals into a bucket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then morning blithely melts into afternoon. Finding one task or another, Anika thinks: ‘this evening’. But then evening arrives and, tired earlier than usual now, Anika climbs into bed thinking: ‘tomorrow’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those who know wait patiently. Now that a decision has been made, they’ll act only when she puts something in motion. Anika is aware of the dwindling time; her tunic is becoming tighter in the middle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes she finds herself imagining the kind of scenes that might play out in the stables nowadays. When going there was a normal thing for her, he was always performing some lonely, leisurely activity, the woodwork being the most important. Little must have changed, other than that this might take up even more of his time now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika has tried to ignore all talk about him, but in the first few days, when people were still reeling from the revelation, the betrayal and the pardon, it was difficult not to hear </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She’s known for a while that he’s been ostracized by many people, that he no longer frequents the tavern or training grounds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That he’s stayed on even after all this is, perhaps, a testament to the authenticity of his remorse and desire for atonement. He is still free to go wherever he wants, with nothing to bind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika refuses to think of what else might be keeping him here. Or what he will do after she breaks the news.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> break the news. Any day now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika stoops over her desk, brows meeting in an angry twist. She turns the pages of some report of little consequence. The view from the archway is dimming, the skies turning a familiar purple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The word ‘tomorrow’ flits through her mind. Heavily, she pushes the report to the side with all its brethren and stands up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sight of Sera lounging on her sofa is so startling that she actually squeaks, stumbling back and bumping her leg painfully against her chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch your step.” Sera cackles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here?” Anika says, flushing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera doesn’t reply immediately. There’s an almost imperceptible narrowing of her eyes, a very small curl of her lip, and then her face transforms. Amusement gives way to some kind of realization. Anika has never seen such shock in the girl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit…or holy shit. Or…fuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sera…” Anika feels cold dread in her stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> is why you were holed all up in here. All this time I thought you were doing some kind of smushy heartbroken maiden routine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How were you able to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? I notice shit. You look like you swallowed a nug. A tiny one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika looks down at herself. She shakes her head and looks at Sera again. “You can’t tell him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“’course not. That’s not my place. It’s yours. But you’re in no hurry to take it.” Sera’s eyes are hard. “Listen, I know he’s done some…pretty vile shit, but he deserves to know this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He will. I’ll tell him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, when exactly? After the kid’s outside and screaming its little lungs out?” Sera springs up, hands on her waist. “By the way, do you know why I came here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika stares silently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera laughs slightly in exasperation. “’s not like I relish poking my noise in your business…Okay, maybe that’s not all true, but it didn’t come into my noggin on its own to sneak up here.” She cocks her head, expression softening. “Beardy’s worried about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika breathes in sharply. “He…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s - and really, I too - been hearin’ all sorts of things. You know how no one in Skyhold can keep their yap shut. They’ve been saying you’re sick. Or ‘mindsick’. Or ‘heartsick’.” Sera makes a face. “A few have been like ‘oh she’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>dying</span>
  </em>
  <span> sick’. Socked a bloke in the mouth for that. Anyway…yeah, he’s boutta jump out of his skin and all. I had to come here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why thank </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> like an idiot? Why not go to him instead? Frankly, those people saying ‘heartsick’ seem spot on. You look like shit, and it’s ’cause you want him still. And you know what? The feeling’s mutual. The looking like shit bit is mutual too. All he does is sulk and brood and…sit around moping. He’s no damn fun at all anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera’s eyes fall to her stomach." And then, you know, the brat - I mean that in the nicest way, okay? Beardy </span>
  <em>
    <span>loves</span>
  </em>
  <span> kids. He’s always doing something for the ones running around here. You want him in this kid’s life. Trust me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika slumps into her chair and stays there for a long time after Sera leaves. Images swirl in her head: she sees the concern in his eyes as he talks to Sera, his diffident posture as he leans over the griffon, the tired lines of his face as he sits and thinks of </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sees his regret pulsing in his chest, his broken heart quivering, like his voice had quivered when he told her goodbye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s crying when she begins her descent down the stairs, a neverending cascade of tears dripping and staining her collar. It’s so late. She opens the door and the hall is empty. Her guards are both dozing. She quietly walks out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s never experienced Skyhold this still and soundless. It somehow sharpens the turmoil in her. She turns and walks and the stables are there in front of her. A fire lights the barn’s interior; it flickers softly in yellow and orange hues.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She twists up the ends of her tunic. Twenty feet. Eight steps. If she can cross this tiny gulf…what will happen? She doesn’t know. She continues to cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stands there unmoving in the night. A shadow moves inside the barn. Her breath hitches. The shadow shifts and warps and seems to be coming closer. Then, he’s there, at the doorway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her breath leaves her in a long whoosh. They stare at each other. His face navigates a variety of emotions: disbelief, uncertainty, hope, </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span>, sadness, resignation. He looks so small and helpless, diminished by the structure he’s made his home and prison.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She does not see the pretend Grey Warden then, or the Orlesian army captain. She does not see the murderer. She sees just the man. She sees him as his feelings and his thoughts, as the desperate need for her that cannot hide itself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sees, strangely, wonderfully, the father of her child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My lady.” He greets her when she’s centimeters from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What should I call you.” She asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He bows his head, remaining silent. She reaches out to touch him, pressing her fingers against his shoulder, one hand curling to ghost over his jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you here?” He asks, shying away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She throws herself at him, wild, wrapping her arms around him so tightly that it hurts. He gasps, a sharp sound cutting through the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Anika</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He says, and the sound of her name on his lips, rare even in happier times, makes her whole body jolt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cries and cries. “What should I call you. Please. Tell me. Tell me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anika, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tell me</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” She says and then silences him with a harsh, bruising kiss. He grabs her shoulders tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He does not push her away. He prods open her lips with his tongue. One hand slides down to cup her ass and press her to him. He grows hard as they kiss. She wonders if he can feel the slight roundness of her stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She undoes his belt and pushes away his gambeson. Her hands slide under his shirt, searching his skin, the curving stretch of thick hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lets her fulfill her desire to touch him, fingers fluttering over the cloth covering her. Then he sweeps her into his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tilts her head to look at him as he brings her back to the place where, months earlier, he’d lain her down and taken her. Want for him sizzles through her as again he lays her down, and again he removes her garments as if in a ritualistic trance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Naked now, she squirms. Again he looks at her, savoring the sight. He doesn’t register the difference, however. She wishes he would, understand just what has happened, how momentous this is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands roam over her, fondle and grope her. He seems to be reacquainting himself with her body. She whimpers as he palms her breasts; she wants the mild prickliness of his chest hair against them, the strength of his hard chest crushing them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops touching her and unties his trousers. Then he stops again, lightly chuckles, and pulls his shirt over his head. He tosses it away and then pulls his trousers down, kicking them off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sight of him, large and stiff, makes her moan. She wants to say his name but she’s not sure what she should say. She reaches out for him, her hand splaying against his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cups her. She whimpers, her hips rising. Then he begins to rub, two fingers pressing down on her bundle of nerves. She writhes as he works her, teasing her clit one second, plunging his fingers into her the next. She rips out fistfuls of hay from wherever she finds them, her head thrashing against his thin, worn pillow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maker. Ah! Maker.” She gasps, and then he twists his fingers inside her. “Oh, oh, my love.” She wails. My love. My love. She keeps crying the words. His name suddenly doesn’t matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Anika</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He growls. His fingers leave, and in one sudden motion, he’s inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She screams. A primal, incoherent sound. His form swallows her, and he holds her securely as her body reacts to the sudden sensation. He chants her name in her ear, pulling out and slamming back in with every utterance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her breasts rub against his shock of hair. His rough hands burn their right into her skin. Between them, nestled inside her, their child grows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She presses her cheek against his, sweat sticking her dark strands to his face. Her fingers tangle in his hair. The nails of her other hand mark the skin of his waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finds a spot that makes her eyes roll back in her head. He hits it repeatedly, rotating his hips so he grinds against it. He rubs her clit in rhythm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She weeps as she comes, twisting and thrusting her hips and clawing at his back, her feet flailing and sending hay flying in the air. He kisses her soothingly, pets her and rubs her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she settles, wet eyes turned up towards the rafters, she whispers a few words into the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sobs against her jaw, thrusts becoming messier, softer. Her tears slip down, collecting on the shell of her ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stills, trembling. His warm seed floods her. His hips jerk for a few seconds, and then relax. He lays himself over her, hides his face in her neck and cries plaintively.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>One month later, Vivienne determines that Anika is carrying twins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is subdued happiness in the air. Most of Skyhold remains unaware still, subsisting on rumors. Only the inner circle is privy, and not all of them are without reservation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anika’s joy is tempered as well, by worries. By a sort of stinging guilt. By the peculiarity of rebuilding a relationship with a man she thought she knew, but in reality is just beginning to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That the bond of trust between them is damaged is undeniable. Anika has tried to move past the lie but found that she can only ever push it to some dark corner of her mind. He is more than that, but he is not free of it; he’s as weighed down by it as he is lifted by the hope of fatherhood and a life with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At night, they coil together on her - their - bed, saying nothing, his hand pressed against her swelling abdomen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With her head on his chest, she closes her eyes and beckons forth dreams of the future. One without a villain to defeat. One without secrets. One outside the high walls of Skyhold. There’s a house in that future, sitting by a calm lake, all the surfaces within covered in children’s playful handprints; there’s a her who doesn’t guard her heart, and a him who stands tall and proud and smiles freely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a half-formed vision, blurred at the edges, but it gives her peace.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I may continue to write in this timeline but I'm also deathly afraid of creating OC children, so I may not. Also I know the title sucks ;_;</p></blockquote></div></div>
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